


roses are red, violets are blue

by blackkat



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [75]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 15:50:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 8,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13684839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: I'm in rare pair hell, how about you?(Short, sweet, sappy drabbles for Valentine's Day, all under a thousand words.)





	1. Naruto/Kiba

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since my dog likes you, then I guess I like you

“You need to stop breaking into my house!” Kiba protests loudly. This seems like the kind of situation where he should. “You’re the  _Hokage_  now!”

Naruto looks bashful, rather than sheepish like he should, even as he flings himself down on the bed that Kiba  _just made_. “If I go home Shikamaru knows where to find me,” he says.

Kiba refrains from pointing out that Shikamaru is smarter than Naruto and all of his clones combined, and probably knows where Naruto is anyway. “You’re a blanket hog,” is about the only complaint he can come up with, even though he knows there are more, and he flops down into the bed face-first to hide the flush that’s climbing up his face.

“Not if we’re sleeping right next to each other,” Naruto points out cheerfully, clearly sensing he’s won the argument before it even really had a chance to start. A moment later, a furnace-hot body curls around his, and Kiba will never, ever say that it feels good in the biting winter air. Just like he’s not going to say that he left his window unlocked just in case Naruto came back again.

From the other side of the bed, there’s a loud whuff, and then the mattress dips dramatically. Akamaru flings himself over both of them, licking faces and whatever parts he can reach as Naruto flails and yelps. Then, duty done, he flops down on the foot of the bed, apparently uncaring that Naruto has taken his spot next to Kiba, and thumps his tail against the blankets.

“Aargh, dog spit!” Naruto complains, and shoves his face between Kiba’s shoulder blades like he’s wiping it off on Kiba’s shirt. He’s a big faker, though—Kiba can totally feel him grinning.

“Well, since my dog likes you, I  _guess_  I like you,” Kiba allows magnanimously, and laughs when Naruto whacks him with a pillow.

He still hasn’t stopped smiling, though


	2. Shino/Kiba

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since my dog likes you, then I guess I like you.

Shino stares up at the gently spinning sky, entirely bewildered as to how this became his like.

“Oh shit,” a voice says, somewhere beyond his current range of vision. “Fuck, Akamaru,  _no_! What did I tell you about clotheslining people?”

Not enough, apparently, Shino thinks.

Before he can even try to get up, a face inserts itself into his line of sight. Shaggy brown hair, red tattoos on his cheeks, worried dark eyes, and Shino actually knows him, even if he’s more familiar with the view from the other side.

“Hey,” the jogger he always watches covertly while on his morning walks says, sounding concerned. “You okay? It sounded like you hit your head pretty hard.”

It takes a second for the words to register, because Shino is rather preoccupied trying to remember how to breathe. Then, a with swallowed groan, Shino gets an elbow underneath himself and sits up, rubbing the forming lump on the back of his head. “I’m fine,” he says. “Why, you ask? The hood of my jacket cushioned the impact.”

“Oh, good.” The man breaks out into a wide grin, and Shino is…blindsided. Yes. That’s a good word. “I’m so sorry about that. An’ Akamaru is sorry too,  _right Akamaru_?”

At his side, the massive white dog whines pitifully, ducking his head. He does look particularly apologetic.

“It’s nothing,” Shino assures him, though he takes the hand the man offers and lets him pull him to his feet.

The jogger winces. “At least let me buy you a coffee or something,” he says. “Akamaru saw you and wanted to say hi, and I didn’t stop him in time. My fault.”

Shino blinks, caught off guard, and levels a look at the man that most people tend to take as flat. Somehow, for some reason, this man doesn’t. just grins, warm and a little sheepish, and shrugs.

“I’m Kiba,” he says. “Since my dog likes you, I guess I do too.”

Well. Shino has certainly heard more baseless decisions than that. “Coffee would be…nice,” he manages, and promptly loses all coherence when Kiba  _beams._

when Kiba beams


	3. Mei/Konan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allow me to give you the world.

This, Mei thinks, was probably a mistake.

She can’t regret it, though. Not when Konan has her pinned to the wall, a leg between her knees, her dress sliding down her shoulders. She gasps into Konan’s mouth, pulls her in and kisses her harder, and Konan’s heart is beating just as fast against her chest as her own is.

“Let me give you the world,” Konan breathes against her lips as they separate, and Mei groans, head falling back against the stone. Her fingers are tangled in soft blue hair, and she curls them, pulls just enough to feel Konan shudder, and wonders if she’s ever felt this breathless, tumbling sensation before.

This is probably why people call it falling in love, and she finally understands. It’s a leap from a high ledge, terrifying and exhilarating, and—

Maybe, if Mei is lucky, she’ll never hit the ground.

She lets her hands slide down, cups Konan’s beautiful face between her palms. Marvels at it, having the leader of Akatsuki ready to fall to her knees for her, amber eyes burning, lips bruised with kisses and a flush in her cheeks.

“Let’s share it,” she whispers back, like a secret, and her smile is sly and full of promise.

Konan kisses her again, desperate and devoted, and Mei is never, ever going to let her go


	4. Kakashi/Obito

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Step away before I punch you in the face

“Step away before I punch you in the face,” Obito hisses.

“Maa,” Kakashi drawls lazily, but Obito is familiar enough to notice the wicked spark in his eye. “I’m just making this more believable.”

“You’re  _ruining my undercover mission_ ,” Obito growls.

“Creating jealousy,” Kakashi corrects breezily, and loops an arm around Obito’s waist because he’s an  _idiot_.

Obito gives his boyfriend a long, flat look, then groans in something like surrender. Whatever. This was a low-paying mission anyway, and the robes he’s in are  _heavy_. “You know, asshole, you could have just  _told me_  you didn’t want me taking a seduction mission.”

Kakashi’s eye crinkles in a truly shameless smile, and he tugs Obito around, stepping even further into his space. His hands settle on Obito’s hips, and—

“Can I cut in?” the target asks from about four inches behind Kakashi’s shoulder, and Obito can feel the contained snarl that only shows itself in the faint baring of Kakashi’s teeth.

“The mission is supposed to end in assassination,” he murmurs, right in Kakashi’s ear. “Want to help me kill him?”

Kakashi glances up, meeting his eye, and beams cheerfully. “Certainly,” he says, flicking a pointed glance at the narrow corridor behind Obito. Message received, and Obito steps around Kakashi, ghosting a touch over his knuckles before he takes the target’s arm.

“Looking to get away from the party?” he asks, casting a glance at the man from under his lashes, and sees him swallow. Demure smile firmly in place, he pulls the target back, following Kakashi’s retreating figure, and the man comes with him blindly.

The darkness swallows them like a wolf, and in it Kakashi is waiting.


	5. Kakuzu/Hidan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to kill me for saying this

"Feel free to kill me for saying this—” Hidan yelps and ducks, a kunai just barely skimming his hair as it goes flying over his head. That would have been his  _throat_ , and Hidan’s immortal enough that it wouldn’t have mattered, but it’s the  _principle_  of the thing.

“You  _fucker_!” he snaps, rolling back to his feet.

Kakuzu looks irritated with a side of bored. “You said I could kill you, so why did you dodge?”

“Because I  _hadn’t even said it yet_!”

With a scoff, Kakuzu goes back to paging through the Bingo Book. “Like that would change anything. I was just cutting out the middle and saving time.”

“The middle part was  _important_ , you asshole!”

“Doubtful.”

“I was going to say  _you have a nice ass and I’d totally let you fuck mine_!”

Kakuzu freezes. He looks up, looks Hidan over, and then says flatly, “Don’t fuck around.”

Hidan bristles. “The only thing I want to fuck around with is you dick! So shut up and take off your damn pants.”

For a long moment, Kakuzu stares at him through narrowed eyes. Then, with a huff, he closes the book and sets it aside. “Will it make you shut up?” he demands, but Hidan  _knows_  the bastard. That’s want in his eyes, and Hidan can feel it like a fingernail traced down his spine.

He grins, wide and challenging, and takes a step forward, hands already reaching for Kakuzu’s belt. “Only if you’re way better in the sack than I think you are,” he says, and in a blur Kakuzu grabs him, spins him around, and slams him face-first into the wall. Hidan’s not surprised at all—Kakuzu’s so fucking predictable—and he grinds back into the dick he can already feel pressing against his ass.

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day,” he laughs, and Kakuzu wraps a hand around his throat.

“Shut the hell up,” he says, and makes a valiant attempt to kiss the smirk right off Hidan’s face.


	6. Madara/Tobirama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Would you just shut up and kiss me already

If Madara has to listen to one more ode to the snake summoner clan’s genius, he’s going to put his head through a wall. Or maybe Tobirama’s, because that seems fair.  _He’s_  the one who hasn’t even glanced at Madara for more than a second since he got home from his meeting.

Madara is so entirely offended right now that Tobirama is about three sentences away from spending the rest of the month on the couch. Except that’s not a punishment for him, the bastard, because he’ll just use the excuse to sneak into his lab or library when Madara isn’t keeping an eye on him.

With a low growl, Madara slams the dishes—for the dinner  _he so thoughtfully and lovingly prepared_ , why the fuck hasn’t Tobirama  _noticed_ —down onto the table and snaps, “ _Tobirama_.”

Red eyes blink, and Tobirama gives him a vaguely affronted glance as he breaks off cooing over the new clan’s advances in summoning techniques. “What?” he demands crankily.

“Would you just  _shut up and kiss me already_ ,” Madara snarls into his face, because Tobirama got home  _half an hour ago_  and Madara  _still_  hasn’t gotten his welcome home kiss. He’s the  _Nidaime Hokage_  and has to put up with reams of idiocy every day, he  _deserves_  a kiss. Many kisses.  _All_  the kisses, as long as they’re coming from Tobirama.

Tobirama, of course, rolls his eyes so hard Madara is sure they’re going to fall out. Except they don’t, because there’s no justice in the world. “You know,” he says pointedly, even as his hand closes in the front of Madara’s shirt and drags him down, “you’re always welcome to kiss me first.”

Madara will  _not stand_  for that kind of—of  _illogical logic_  in his house, and he’s definitely going to tell Tobirama that.

Just as soon as he stops kissing him.

(It might take a while.)


	7. Gaara/Sai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are you going to get into bed with me or what?

The fact that Naruto only has one guest room has never seemed like a problem before, Gaara reflects. Of course, that was before he realized he was going to have to share with Naruto’s other current house guest, and Gaara isn’t entirely sure his nerves are going to survive the night.

“Are you going to get into bed with me?” Sai asks cheerfully, and he at least seems like he couldn’t care less about this, already pulling on a pair of sleeping shorts.

…Well. Kind of. There certainly isn’t a lot to pull on when they look like they’re made of maybe three square inches of fabric in total.

Gaara very determinedly drags his gaze up and away from long, lean thighs and far too much skin, and casts another unhappy glance at the single bed. The  _small_  bed. And he can’t even bow out and go sleep on the expansive couch, because it’s currently occupied by Tenten, Hinata, and Karin, and even Gaara isn’t socially stunted enough to elbow in on that threesome. Any one of them would cheerfully murder him, though Hinata might at least be apologetic about it in the morning.

“Yes,” he finally concedes, giving in and lifting the covers on his side. The mattress is soft, at least, and there are plenty of pillows, though Gaara doesn’t pay them nearly the attention they deserve. That’s reserved for Sai, happily sliding in beside him without any recognition that personal space is actually a concept.

“Isn’t this how most gay porn starts?” Sai asks, somewhere between curious and amused.

Gaara gets a vivid flashback to the last brief clip of a porno he watched, and it’s entirely coincidence that one of the men was lean muscles and dark hair and a wicked smile, but looking at it  _now_ —

“You said you weren’t gay,” he manages to get out, because he  _definitely_ remembers that conversation over dinner a week ago.

“I’m not,” Sai says, rolling up onto one elbow and tilting his head in faint confusion. “I’m pansexual.” Another tip of his head in the opposite direction, and he asks cheerfully, “If we reenacted a porno, is it still a porno?”

Gaara thinks of the man in the film, thinks of legs around his waist and the way their bodies are practically pressed together beneath the sheets from shoulder to ankle.

“I think,” he says, even as he gets a hand on Sai’s bicep and pushes him down, “that it’s just considered sex.”

Sai hums, like he’s considering, like he isn’t pulling Gaara on top of him already. “In that case, do you want to have sex with me, Gaara?”

Gaara can’t even begin to respond that verbally, so he leans down and kisses Sai hard, and lets that stand as his entirely enthusiastic answer.


	8. Kakashi/Obito

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thought of losing you scares me.

"I’m going to the grocery store, not Mars,” Kakashi says dryly, though he waits by the door of their apartment as Obito pulls his boots on and grabs his coat off the hook.

Obito rolls his eye pointedly, snagging a handful of the reusable grocery bags he loves so much off the shelf and stuffing them into Kakashi’s back pocket. “But sweetheart,” he says, mockingly sugary the way he only is when he’s making fun of Kakashi’s taste in fine literature, “the thought of losing you scares me so much.”

Kakashi gives him an unimpressed look. “If you keep it up, I’m never going to let you borrow my Icha Icha ever again,” he threatens.

“The horror,” Obito tells him, perfectly deadpan, and it takes all of Kakashi’s willpower not to smile at him, the jerk. He can always tell when Kakashi’s hiding amusement behind his scarf, too. Still, when Obito reaches out, Kakashi takes his hand, slipping their twined fingers into his pocket to fight off the bite of snow that’s in the air.

“I don’t even know why I like you,” he says dryly.

“You have terrible taste,” Obito reminds him, smirking, and Kakashi rolls his eyes and doesn’t argue. It’s entirely true.


	9. Minato/Nagato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't stop thinking about you.

Minato’s never been overly fond of snow. It’s pretty for the first few minutes, but then it’s too cold and too wet and all around unpleasant.

Seeing it like this, though, falling onto deep red hair and into violet eyes framed by dark lashes, framing Nagato’s face against a backdrop of pure white as he looks up at Minato, smiling a little like he just can’t help it­—well.

Minato might just be willing to give it another chance.

“Thank you for asking me out,” Nagato says, and glances down, fiddling with his gloves. “I’m having…a lot of fun.”

The red in his cheeks is probably from the cold, not from Minato’s presence, but that’s fine. He’s adorable either way, and Minato can’t quite catch his breath. It feels like his heart is a size too large to fit correctly in his chest, or like he’s a champagne bottle that’s bubbling over.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he blurts, before he can reconsider, and this was just—supposed to be friendly. A skating trip out with friends, but the Yahiko had cancelled, and Kushina and Mikoto had decided to stay in rather than brave the start of the snowstorm, and it had ended up the best possible way. And—Minato is definitely going to ruin this, that was too forward, Nagato is sweet and a little shy and Kushina will  _scalp him_  for traumatizing her little brother—

Cold lips against his own take him by complete surprise, and bring the frantic hummingbird pace of his thoughts screeching to a dead stop all at once. Minato sucks in a breath, but it only takes him a second to recover, to get his hands on Nagato’s waist as he leans in, deepens the kiss and feels Nagato press up into his touch in return.

The break apart, breath clouding in mingling gusts between them, and this time Minato is entirely willing to believe he put that beautiful flush in Nagato’s cheeks and nose. Winter can fight him for credit if it wants, because right now Minato feels like he could win  _anything_.

“I’m glad,” Nagato says, happy and just a little wry, and when Minato’s hand comes up to touch his cheek he lays his own over it, twisting their fingers together. “I can’t stop thinking about you, either.”


	10. Minato/Shikamaru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know he’s trouble but I don’t care.

This,” Ino tells him, “is either going to be a disaster or a  _massive clusterfuck_.”

“I hate you,” Shikamaru grumbles, though he doesn’t mean it. He glances across the room, to where Minato is talking to his genin team with a cheerful smile, the sunlight catching on his hair and turning it to gold. It makes his swallow hard, and his next words are a little more strangled than he would like. “And aren’t you supposed to be the romantic one?”

“Clusterfucks can be romantic,” Choji says sagely, like he’s sharing some great bit of wisdom, and it makes Ino laugh, leaning on his shoulder.

“I suppose,” she says, airy and still definitely judging him. “Fine, whatever. At least you make a cute couple.”

Choji snickers. “And one that’s full of headaches,” he points out, and Shikamaru groans, thumping his head back against the wall. A month in the past and he’s already had to step in and  _personally_  save the idiot genius’s life three times. He’s pretty sure he’s starting to get ulcers.

“How can someone so smart be so  _ridiculous_?” he laments.

Ino and Choji trade speaking looks that entirely exclude Shikamaru, which,  _rude_.

“Geniuses?  _Ridiculous_?” Ino asks, full of faux astonishment.

“ _Never_ ,” Choji agrees solemnly.

Shikamaru really, really hates his friends.

Before he can tell them that, though, laughter draws his attention, and he looks back towards the window just in time to catch Minato turning, looking back at Shikamaru like he wants to share his joy. He holds out a hand in gentle invitation, and it’s like someone closed a hand around Shikamaru’s heart and squeezed.

“I know he’s trouble,” Shikamaru says quietly, and he’s never meant anything more. “I know  _all_  of this is trouble. And I don’t care.”

Ino and Choji trade glances again. Then, as one, they grab his shoulders and propel him forward across the room with a hard shove.

Shikamaru really does hate his friends, because they’re the  _worst_. But maybe they’re also the best, too, because Minato catches him, still laughing, and pulls him right up against his side.


	11. Sakumo/Orochimaru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to kill me for saying this.

Orochimaru is never, ever going to let Jiraiya and Tsunade drag him to a bar ever again.

Entirely bored out of his mind, he picks at a loose splinter on the bar counter and wonders how believable it will be if he fakes a flood with a subtle pipe bomb made from stolen cleaning supplies. Not enough, likely; Tsunade has always been able to see through him far too easily. And if he tries to slip out, Jiraiya will notice, no matter how drunk he is. It’s a theory Orochimaru has tested before.

With a disgusted huff, he turns to look for the bartended, intending to order something strong enough in large enough quantity to make the night bearable—

A glass settles in front of him with a clink, and the man who put it there gives him a faintly sheepish smile. “Hi there,” he says, and then winces. “I—feel free to kill me for saying this, but…did you fall from heaven? Because you look like an angel.”

Orochimaru stares blankly at him for a long moment, then looks down at the drink, back up at the white-haired man, and then over his shoulder at where Jiraiya and Tsunade are hunched over and laughing so hard they’re practically crying. Clearly this is some sort of plot to make him uncomfortable, and he rolls his eyes at the ridiculousness and decides that the only response is to be as stubbornly resistant to embarrassment as possible.

“Did you know that angels were originally creatures of such terror and awe that they had to announce that they meant no harm before they could say anything else?” he asks smoothly, leaning in close like he’s flirting back.

To his surprise, the man’s shoulders go down a little as some of his tension eases, and he smiles in return. “I think my words still apply,” he says, only a little wryly. “At least where the awe is concerned.”

…An acceptable response. Orochimaru looks him over, then offers a hand. “Orochimaru. I take it you lost a bet?”

“Sakumo.” He grimaces, but takes Orochimaru’s hand in a firm grip. “Unfortunately, my friend is better than me at poker. I would very much have let you kill me, for the record, just for opening with a terrible line like that.”

“Tsunade’s idea,” Orochimaru concludes. “That’s her favorite pickup line.” When Sakumo looks at him in surprise, he rolls his eyes. “They are nominally my friends. To my great misfortune.”

Sakumo laughs, settling onto the stool beside him. “Well, apparently not to mine,” he says with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“And you as well,” Orochimaru returns, and is surprised to find he means it. Maybe this won’t be  _entirely_  out of spite. Not that he’ll let that tidbit slip to the two hyenas behind them.


	12. Zabuza/Shikamaru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not good for you.

"I'm not good for you,” Zabuza manages, half a second before Shikamaru decides he is  _done with talking_  and kisses him hard to shut him up.

“The whole noble demon thing is getting old,” he complains, as soon as they break apart.

Zabuza huffs and grins at him, all teeth in a way that’s entirely deliberate. “Noble?” he scoffs, and in an instant Shikamaru’s back is hitting the dirt as Zabuza rolls them, pinning him to the ground by his shoulders. Sharp teeth skim his throat, making Shikamaru gasp, and he drags Zabuza’s head up by the hair to kiss him again. Against his mouth, Zabuza hisses, pulls his lips from between Shikamaru’s teeth, and says, “If you could see the images in my head, you wouldn’t be calling me noble, Nara.”

Shikamaru rolls his eyes. He didn’t travel twenty years into the past to fall into bed with someone who’s going to treat him like some high-class princess saving herself for marriage. “I’m a  _shinobi_ ,” he says pointedly, and gets a hand down Zabuza’s pants. It has the wonderful side-effect of completely shattering whatever he’s about to say next, and Shikamaru takes advantage to kiss him once more, all teeth and tongue and heat that curls like a wildfire through his veins.

This is absolutely doing nothing to keep the timeline intact, but right now, with Zabuza’s tongue in his mouth and callused hands stripping his shirt off, Shikamaru really doesn’t give a damn. Keeping things the same was way too troublesome, anyways.


	13. Sakumo/Orochimaru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're such a cute drunk.

Sakumo currently has fifty-seven kilograms of ninja on his lap, and it’s just about the happiest he’s ever been.

“You’re such a cute drunk,” he tells Orochimaru, entirely amused, and brushes some of that long, dark hair out of his face with careful fingers, skimming a light touch along sharp cheekbones he’s spent at least a year dreaming about. Normally, even like this he wouldn’t be quite so daring, but it’s slightly possible he’s more than a bit tipsy himself, and Orochimaru is beautiful, like the bare blade of a sword.

Where his face is buried in Sakumo’s shoulder, Orochimaru huffs, and then promptly presses himself even closer. “Warm,” he says drowsily.

Gods, Sakumo wants to  _touch_. The neck of Orochimaru’s yukata is gaping, and the fishnets beneath turn his skin into an intriguing play of light and shadow. He swallows hard, but drags his gaze away, to the peaceful relaxation of Orochimaru’s features, the lack of tension in his frame, and it’s enough to make him smile. The war is over, and this celebration is long overdue.

There’s a gentle breath, and golden eyes slit open, focusing on Sakumo’s face with that strange, beautiful intensity. Orochimaru pauses for a long moment, then raises a hand and traces a finger over Sakumo’s lips in a gesture that makes Sakumo’s heart stutter and trip. He sucks in a sharp breath, and Orochimaru smirks, slow and languid and inviting.

“I dream about kissing you,” he says, and his gaze doesn’t so much as waver.

Sakumo stares at him, trying to remember how to make his lungs work. Before he can, though, Orochimaru hums and turns, pulling his legs up and settling into an even tighter curl as silken hair tumbles over his shoulder.

“The  _cutest_  drunk,” Sakumo finally manages, and twists his fingers into that beautiful hair. He doesn’t touch further, but…he doesn’t make himself let go, either.


	14. Minato/Nagato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May I have this dance?

Nagato is  _almost_  drunk enough for this.

Behind him, Yahiko is calling encouragement and advice that Nagato is very pointedly not listening to, and he picks up a little more speed just to get out of earshot faster, aiming his feet for the low benches where several people are taking a break from the peace celebrations. One of them is the cousin Nagato never knew he had, and the other is Jiraiya’s fourth student, laughing with an Uchiha boy around their age.

Even with several doses of liquid courage behind him, Nagato wavers, hesitates. It would be easy enough to ask Kushina to dance, because she’s family and they’re still getting to know each other. It’s the perfect excuse to be approaching, and reason enough to avoid even looking at the handsome teenager who currently has his arm looped over the Uchiha’s shoulder.

They’re probably dating, Nagato tells himself. They’re probably in love, and if he goes over there and asks Minato to dance with him, they’ll laugh at him. Or worse,  _pity_  him, the boy from backwards Ame who might have the Rinnegan but is only barely a ninja, and only that much thanks to Jiraiya’s kindness.

A hand touches his shoulder, brief but warm, and Konan casts him a faint smile as she steps around him. “You can raise the  _dead_ ,” she says softly, meant for his ears alone. “What’s a dance, compared to that?”

The possibility of rejection, Nagato wants to tell her, but she’s already gone. In a moment she’s in front of Kushina, smiling invitingly as she holds out a hand, and Kushina lights up. She bounces to her feet, grabbing Konan, and drags her out towards the bonfire with a bright laugh.

Well. That’s his best excuse gone, and Nagato strangles a groan.

Still.  _Still_. Konan has a point. He steels himself, thinks of that moment when his Rinnegan activated and Hanzō died and Yahiko  _lived_ , and tries to hold on to the feeling of invincibility that came along with it. A step forward, another, a third—

Minato looks up as Nagato’s shadow falls over him, and his eyes seem impossibly blue even in the descending dusk. “Nagato!” he says cheerfully, like they’re already old friends, and waves a hand at his unoccupied side. “Come on, sit down.” His grin takes on a mischievous slant, and he leans in to confess cheerfully, “I was just trying to get Fugaku to ask Hiashi to dance.”

It’s the perfect opening. Nagato manages a smile, and offers, “How about we lead by example? May I have this dance?”

Minato stops short, clearly startled, and then beams like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. He rises to his feet, catching Nagato around the waist, and swings them out into a spin, laughing.

“I’d love to!” he says, and it’s so very clear that he means it.


	15. Kisame/Tobirama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're staring again.

You’re staring again,” Tobirama says coolly, not looking up from his paperwork.

The interview candidate chuckles, though he looks faintly abashed to have been caught. “It’s not every day I meet someone with five doctorates,” he says cheerfully. “Or someone as handsome as you.”

Tobirama’s pen stops mid-word, and he tries to resist the urge to look up, but can’t. Kisame grins back at him, for all the world like he doesn’t have two doctorates in biology of his own. And he’s  _big_ —Tobirama has seen career sailors who don’t have nearly the muscle he does.

He’d be lying through his teeth if he said he hadn’t stared as well, though he at least managed to do it a little more covertly.

Taking a breath, he weighs his options for half a second before he sets his paperwork aside, sliding his glasses off and folding them carefully. “Your paperwork is all in order,” he says, perfectly professional even as he stands, stepping around his chair to put himself between Kisame and the front of the heavy wooden desk. “And I am entirely certain we won’t find another candidate as suited to the position as you are. I believe you can consider the job yours.”

Kisame’s eyes are sharp, and he’s relaxed in his chair, looking up at Tobirama with a gaze that drags over every inch of him with an almost tangible weight. “We haven’t even discussed perks yet,” he points out, and his smile has teeth.

Tobirama’s breath catches in his throat at the sight of it. He braces his hands on the edge of the desk, leaning back slightly until the lines of his suit are showing off his swimmer’s build to his best advantage, and smirks in return.

“The job is yours,” he says dismissively, and reaches up, sliding the top button of his shirt free. “All the information on salary is in your packet. And if you wish to fuck me over my desk, we can call that a signing bonus.”

Kisame laughs, low and heady, and stands. He plants his hands on the wood on either side of Tobirama, leaning over him, and Tobirama has to tilt his head back to meet his eyes.

“Just a one-time thing?” he asks, rough enough to send a shiver down Tobirama’s spine.

Tobirama lets his eyes slide down Kisame’s body to linger deliberately on the growing bulge in his slacks, and then glances up with a smirk. “If your performance is satisfactory, we can discuss other arrangements.”

With a chuckle, Kisame tilts Tobirama’s chin up, and his eyes are bright and hot. “I’m always happy to do overtime,” he says, and his kiss is enough to wipe everything but the wild surge of desire from Tobirama’s thoughts.


	16. Sasuke/Naruto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m carrying your child.

"How could you do this to me?” Naruto wails. “I’m  _carrying your child_!”

Sasuke is entirely certain that he can feel his soul depart his body.

It’s only for a moment, thankfully. He comes back to himself surrounded by shards of the bowl he was carrying, with ramen broth seeping into his slippers and noodles clinging to the hems of his pants, and if he’s a little lightheaded he thinks that’s entirely allowable under the circumstances.

“What?” he croaks, and feels his Sharingan spin to life, scanning up and down Naruto’s pyjama-clad body with something like desperation. They’d—Naruto had been female that night last week, and they’d gone so many rounds Sasuke had thought his dick was going to fall off, but—one night, surely—and biologically Naruto is  _male_  even with that jutsu of his—

“Teme!” Naruto complains, sinking back in his chair and leveling a look at Sasuke like he just punted a puppy across the room. “What the hell? That was my  _ramen_! You  _killed_ it!”

“No,” Sasuke says flatly. “No you are  _not_  carrying my child, and if you were I still wouldn’t allow you to eat  _ramen for breakfast._ What the fuck, dead last?”

“I could be,” Naruto retorts, sticking out his lip in what Sasuke will never tell him is an bewilderingly effective pout. Apparently Sasuke’s complete and utter incredulity must show on his face, because Naruto rolls his eyes and gets up, going to the cupboard to rummage for another cup of ramen. (Sasuke hid them on the top shelf last night, and Naruto always insists that he’s too tall to need a stool. He’ll never find them.) “Baa-chan said my henge was solid enough that I could actually carry a kid, as long as I didn’t switch back.”

“But you’re not  _right now_ ,” Sasuke insists, because he’s  _seventeen_. Dreams of rebuilding his clan aside, he’s way too young to be a father right now. And Naruto still hasn’t become Hokage. There’s no way they can start a family yet.

Then he realizes that he’s suddenly planning like they’ll do just that in the future, and wants to stab himself with his own sword.

“Nah, not right now,” Naruto admits, unaware of the internal crisis Sasuke is currently having. He pulls a package of pocky out of a corner of the cupboard and tucks a stick into his mouth, then turns to grin at Sasuke like the idiot he is. The  _beautiful_  idiot. Sasuke hates him. “Though we could totally practice, if you want.”

Sasuke is going to die before he ever makes it to eighteen.


	17. Sakumo/Orochimaru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can trust me.

“You can trust me,” Sakumo says gently, squeezing Orochimaru’s hand. “I swear it.”

Orochimaru scoffs, but he doesn’t try to pull away. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” he retorts, and even if the tone is waspish the words are anything but. He takes three careful steps forward, catches the edge of the bed with his fingertips, and lets a brief flash of victory show on his face. “You are, in fact, the only one I trust at this moment.”

Sakumo winces. “That’s a little harsh, lovely,” he says, though it’s more of a kneejerk reaction than an actual protest.

Even though Orochimaru can't currently see, he levels a look at Sakumo that’s more cutting than Kusanagi could ever dream of being. “Within two hours of the accident, Jiraiya had already attempted to draw on my face four times, and Tsunade was too distracted yelling at him to assist me,” he says, desert-dry. “It’s not harsh, it’s _accurate_.”

“Well, their loss,” Sakumo says, and makes it as light as he can. Orochimaru assured him the blindness will only last a day or two, and in the meantime, it means Sakumo gets him entirely to himself. Neither of them have missions, and Kakashi has a mission outside the village with his team. The house is theirs.

Orochimaru’s smile says he knows exactly what Sakumo is thinking. He takes one step to the side, free hand finding the mattress, and then gives Sakumo a hard, fast shove that topples him back onto the bed with a yelp.

“Lovely,” he protests, even though he’s grinning.

An unimpressed brow rises, but Orochimaru is smirking, too. He slides onto the bed, bonelessly graceful, and straddles Sakumo's knees, robes riding up to show the pale skin of his thighs. “Lack of sight can enhance sensations,” he purrs, and it may as well be a taunt as he leans forward, one hand loosening his hash until it gives way. The yukata slides open with a whisper of silk, and Sakumo has to swallow hard as he reaches up, fingers finding bare skin.

“Is that a fact or a hypothesis?” he asks roughly, and Orochimaru laughs, low and wicked.

“Let’s call it a hypothesis,” he says, splaying his hands over Sakumo's chest. His nails scrape skin, just hard enough to make Sakumo gasp. “I believe it needs _thorough_ testing.”


	18. Naruto/Gaara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thought of losing you scares me.

“I want our alliance to continue well into the future,” Gaara tries.

Temari stares at him for a long moment, entirely expressionless beyond the arch of one eyebrow.

Not a good option, then. Gaara takes a breath, trying to remember the list he prepared. “I am…interested in becoming a part of your family in a way that is—”

Temari closes her eyes like she’s in pain. “Do you want to be his _brother_?”

It’s probably a little pathetic, but Gaara would happily take brother over nothing. He opens his mouth to say as much, catches sight of Temari's warning expression, and closes it again. “…No?” he offers.

Without opening her eyes, Temari waves him on.

“I want to steal back every kiss you gave that Uchiha _bastard_ ­—”

Facedown on the table, Kankuro makes a sound of despair. “Are you _actively trying_ to get punched?” he wants to know.

All right. Best to just…avoid the subject of Sasuke entirely. Gaara casts around for something, _anything_ else that might work, and opens his mouth.

“The thought of losing you in any fashion scares me, Naruto,” he says, and isn’t sure where the words come from but knows that he means them with every inch of his soul. “I would…do anything to prevent that. And as part of that I would like to marry you.”

From behind him, there's a cry, and Gaara instantly whips around, heart suddenly pounding in his throat, to find Naruto in the doorway, eyes wide and wondering.

“Gaara?” he whispers.

It’s far, far too late to take it back, and Gaara doesn’t even want to. he steels himself, squares his shoulders, and looks Naruto in the eye.

“I want to be your husband,” he says, blunt and simple and everything he’s been trying to make himself say for _weeks_ now. “I would—I very much hope that you want the same thing.”

Half a heartbeat later, his arms are full of laughing blond, sunlight given form, warm and bright and beautiful. Naruto is cheering, and somewhere in there is a loud, happy _yes_ , but Gaara is too busy kissing him to hear any more than that.


	19. Sasuke/Naruto/Sakura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aren't you going to get into bed with me?

“From now on, missions are banned,” Sakura mutters, stripping off her flak jacket and dumping it on the ground. She’ll regret that in the morning, probably, but right now she doesn’t give a damn.

“As soon as I'm Hokage they're banned _forever_ ,” Naruto agrees, so tired that even his normal grin has faded. He helps Sasuke stagger into the bedroom, both of them so tired they’re practically bumping into walls, and the sharply critical part of Sakura's brain that _never shuts up_ is thinking about making them drink water or eat a ration at the very least before they all fall asleep, maybe shower because all three of them are covered in blood that isn’t theirs and—

 _Jinchuuriki_ , she reminds the voice pointedly. _Jinchuuriki and healer and_ Sasuke _, no germ is going to touch him because he’d annoy it away within ten minutes_. _We don’t have to worry about other people’s blood_.

“You mean as soon as I'm Hokage,” Sasuke corrects, but it doesn’t have nearly the bite it normally does, and half a second later he falls forward to faceplant in the mattress with a relieved groan.

He’s still wearing his sandals, Sakura realizes. Gods, they're all _really_ tired.

With a groan, she crouches down, tugging at zippers until the sandals drop loose and then tossing them to the side. Sasuke makes a noise of vague thanks, wiggling his toes in the cool air. It’s a little cute, but Sakura is mostly preoccupied with the fact that he’s taking up most of the bed in his starfish sprawl.

“If you don’t move your arm,” she threatens, “I'm going to take it and beat you with it.”

One dark eye slits open. “Amputation would be too much work,” Sasuke points out, but obligingly drags his arm a little closer to his side so she can collapse beside him.

When she cracks an eye open, looking for their third, it’s to find Naruto still in the doorway, watching them with a soft smile. There's something impossibly gentle in his eyes and on his face, and Sakura can feel it unfurl beneath her breastbone like a wash of soothing heat.

“Come on,” she says, holding out a hand and curling her fingers imperiously. “Aren’t you going to get into bed with us or what?”

“Well,” Naruto says, but he’s wearing his fox-grin. “I don’t know, you guys seem pretty boring right now, I was thinking I’d go get some ramen and—”

“ _Dobe_.” Sasuke rolls over, glaring through one eye, and Sakura gives Naruto her most incredulous stare. He breaks down laughing, dropping his own flak jacket and then catching their hands, and they pull him down onto the bed between them.


	20. Madara/Tobirama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's so hard for me to hate you right now.

Madara takes one step onto the training ground and stops dead, gunbai slipping through suddenly nerveless fingers. A peal of laughter curls up his throat, and he has to physically slap a hand over his mouth to keep it in.

Seated on the ground, Hashirama sprawled across his legs, five children valiantly attempting to all squish themselves into his lap, Tobirama gives him a dark look that’s probably meant to be intimidating but falls rather short, given the circumstances. Those circumstances being that he has an Uchiha child attached to his neck like a limpet, and drooling on his shirt.

Containing a snicker, Madara steps over the sprawl of Hashirama’s limbs, and over the sound of his snores says, “Training hard, Senju?”

Tobirama scowls, though tellingly he doesn’t try to move so much as an inch. “My brother is a terrible influence,” he says grumpily, and normally he’d cross his arms with an expression like that, but right now an Akimichi child is curled in the crook of his elbow and the youngest Utatane girl is clinging to the other arm. Still, he has Kagami cradled against his shoulder, and Madara looks from the boy to Tobirama and back again.

He’d protested, when Hashirama said he was giving Tobirama an Uchiha to train. Thought that it would end in horror and blood. But…

Snorting softly, he leans down and plucks off Tobirama’s faceplate, setting it aside so that it’s no longer digging into Kagami's cheek. “It’s so damn hard for me to hate you right now,” he murmurs, more to himself than Tobirama, but Tobirama hears. His eyes widen, and he twitches like he wants to reach out, but he’s stopped by the children asleep on him.

“Later,” Madara tells him, then turns away, picking up his gunbai. He’ll find somewhere else to practice.

Or maybe he won't. Maybe, just this once, he’ll put his weapon aside and take a walk through the village instead. It might be nice to enjoy the peace for a little while.


	21. Sakumo/Orochimaru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm carrying your child.

“No,” Orochimaru says flatly the moment he feels hands on his waist. “I am _carrying your child_.”

Undeterred, Sakumo leans into him, dropping his chin on Orochimaru’s shoulder and tipping his head against Orochimaru’s cheek. “You are,” he agrees, and reaches around Orochimaru to smooth a hand over Kakashi’s hair. The boy is asleep, one hand fisted in Orochimaru’s robe, the other tucked under his chin, and Orochimaru could put him down for his nap, but he finds that he rather just…doesn’t want to.

“Besides,” he says, and will never admit that he leans back into Sakumo's breadth and warmth. “You need to break your habit of picking me up at the slightest provocation. It’s aggravating.”

“You're only annoyed because Jiraiya’s started calling you princess as well,” Sakumo points out, but he wraps his arms around Orochimaru’s waist and kisses his cheek. “I can promise he’ll stop now, though.”

Curious, Orochimaru glances back at him, lifting a brow. “Will he really?”

Sakumo grins, then leans in, kissing under Orochimaru’s jaw and sending little sparks of sensation shivering down his spine as teeth just barely scrape his skin. “Absolutely. Unless he wants Tsunade to see the first draft of his new novel.”

Very cunning. Orochimaru approves wholeheartedly. “You are ruthless.”

“It’s one of the reasons you love me,” Sakumo says cheekily, and brushes Orochimaru’s hair aside to kiss the nape of his neck. It makes him suck in a sharp breath, and Sakumo smiles, then very carefully, very deliberately sets his teeth to the skin and bites. It’s light, barely hard enough to dent the skin, but Orochimaru stiffens, thoughts whiting out like static. He presses back, and Sakumo chuckles softly.

“Why don’t you put Kakashi down,” he murmurs, stroking Orochimaru’s sides carefully. “I missed you while you were working.”

“I suppose I could be convinced,” Orochimaru says, and lets Sakumo steer him towards the nursery without protest.


	22. Indra/Orochimaru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're the one.

It’s just slightly possible that tracking the reincarnation cycle was not as good an idea as Orochimaru thought it was.

“Aren’t you going to use your ninshū?” Indra murmurs in his ear, and one of his hands is over Orochimaru’s mouth, the other under his robes. They're in the middle of the training hall, and literally anyone could walk in right now. It’s honestly a surprise that Kabuto hasn’t already; he’s due back today, and he always seeks Orochimaru out as soon as he returns.

Still. Perhaps that’s a portion of the appeal. Orochimaru presses into Indra, fingers tangled in the man’s long hair, legs hitched up around his waist, and his laugh bubbles out from under Indra's hand. He sprawls across the mats, uncaring that he’s on display, and twists his head to the side to free his mouth. “Did you want me to show off?” he mocks, watching Sharingan eyes narrow. _Fascinating_ , that he could manifest them as soon as he remembered his past life. Orochimaru wants to take him apart to understand _why_ , even if he’s smart enough to know he’s not going to get the chance. “Show you all the ways we’ve corrupted your ninshū over time?”

Indra's eyes are burning, and his chakra is a crushing weight as he bears down on Orochimaru, sliding between his thighs. “You're going to help me _fix it_ ,” he says, and that voice is a threat, so beautifully dangerous that it makes Orochimaru shiver.

“Are you going to make me?” he asks, and it’s a taunt, because he already knows he’s going to follow Indra. Already knows that this is what he wants, because it’s interesting, because it’s _fun_.

Indra kisses him, and it’s teeth and power and the bite of anticipation that curls around Orochimaru’s spine. “We’ll have _peace_ ,” he says, and his hands would leave bruises if Orochimaru were anyone else. “Peace through force. You’ve corrupted my father’s teachings. You aren’t _worthy_. No one is. But you're the one who's going to help me.”

Orochimaru laughs, tipping his head back against the bamboo floor, and looks up at Indra through heavy-lidded eyes. “Will you be our king?” he mocks.

Indra's teeth draw blood on his lip, and when he kisses Orochimaru it tastes of copper and salt. “I’ll be your _god_ ,” he promises.


	23. Madara/Tobirama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't make me take you home and punish you.

“Don’t make me take you home and punish you,” Madara warns, low and rough, and wraps an arm around Tobirama’s waist.

Tobirama smirks, tilting his head back against Madara's shoulder and slowing the roll of his hips as he sways to the beat. The club is dark and not crowded, but there are several sets of eyes on them, not least of which are his ex’s. Kinkaku is leaning back against the bar, watching them, and Tobirama is spiteful enough to put on a show.

“Maybe that’s my goal,” he taunts, and Madara's fingers curl into his hips. He takes a rough breath, then grinds forward, the line of his cock pressing right against Tobirama’s ass. One of his hands slides Tobirama’s shirt up, splaying across his stomach, and then he whirls him around, dragging him up right against him with a hard grip on his ass. Tobirama moans into his mouth, only just managing to keep his rhythm as he grinds against Madara's cock.

“Keep this up and you won't come until _morning_ ,” Madara gasps, but he’s breathless enough that Tobirama laughs, low and wicked. He slings his arms over Madara's shoulders, pulling him in for a light, teasing kiss that only manages to build the heat between them.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Uchiha,” he murmurs against Madara's ear, and revels in the shudder that wracks him. The night is most definitely looking up.


	24. Mito/Rin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May I have this dance?

“May I have this dance?”

 _Damnit_ , is Rin's first thought, even as she turns, pasting on a smile. Of course she wouldn’t be lucky enough to avoid the assholes all night. Obito, who’s usually her first line of defense, is currently out on the dance floor having what amounts to vertical sex with the dark-haired man who scooped him up as soon as they got here, and while Rin _can_ deal with the type of people who like to hit on women in gay bars, she’d really, _really_ rather not.

But before she even has a chance to open her mouth and respond to that rather terrible line—they're in a _club_ , not a ballroom—a much more delicate hand catches her elbow, then slides to wrap around her waist. “Sorry, sweetheart,” a woman says, and Rin turns to find the most gorgeous redhead she’s ever had the pleasure of meeting now tucked up against her side. “I didn’t meant to take so long, there was a line.”

It takes effort not to stammer, because the woman is gorgeous and tall and _smiling_ , catlike and a little sly as she watches Rin, and Rin suddenly feels awkward and gangly and entirely underdressed. “No worries,” she says, and smiles back, hoping she doesn’t sound as breathless as she feels. “I missed you, though.” And, because she can, because it’s expected if they're going to sell the lie, she curves an arm around the woman’s side, lets a hand rest in the small of her back. It’s something like an invitation, and the redhead takes it, stepping in between her knees.

“Hey—” the man starts, but Rin doesn’t give him a chance. She pulls, and the woman leans in, a spark of mischief in her eyes, and she kisses Rin as kisses back, tangling her fingers in thick red hair. There’s a sound of disgust from beside them, but the woman smells like jasmine and lemon and her mouth is sweet-hot and soft. Rin would happily keep kissing her for the rest of the night without coming up for air.

They do eventually break apart, though, and the woman comes up laughing. Rin is giggling too, and the man is gone but she can hardly spare a thought for anything but the way the stranger leans into her, pressing Rin back up against the bar.

“I'm Mito,” she says, smiling up at Rin with a foxlike slant and mirth in her eyes. “Sorry to be so forward, but I thought I could kill two birds with one stone.”

“Rin,” Rin offers a little roughly. She swallows, and asks, “Two?”

Mito laughs, and it’s husky and as sweet as her mouth. “I got to help you with a problem and steal a kiss at the same time,” she says airily, and leans in, breath ghosting over Rin's lips. “What are the odds I can get another one?”

“Definitely in your favor,” Rin says, and slides their mouths together in another bruise-sweet kiss.


End file.
